The Iron Tongue of Midnight
by Petronille
Summary: Regina lost more than her true love when Cora killed Daniel, and Rumplestiltskin believed that he could keep his dealings with the Fae a secret forever. And a young woman named Ophelia, long ago saved from drowning by magic, comes to Storybrooke to try to right the wrongs of the past.


**Disclaimer: I don't own "Once Upon a Time," and the characters from Shakespeare's plays—particularly "Hamlet," "A Midsummer Night's Dream," and "The Tempest"-are in the public domain. The story of Thomas the Rhymer and the Faerie Queen is a Scottish legend. **

**The Iron Tongue of Midnight**

**Prelude: Torrent**

_So it has come to this._

_All of my dreams, all that I've ever known, have been swept away. All has been wiped clean._

_Papa is dead. I never believed that it would happen so soon, or by whose hand he had been slain, but yes, Papa is dead._

_My love has torn out my heart, thrown it upon the ground, and stomped—almost danced—upon it, as though it were nothing, as though it were flowers cast upon the grave of his most hated enemy._

_And flowers. These flowers. They aren't the flowers for a wedding, or for anything happy, but flowers for a funeral._

_My funeral._

_I won't be buried in hallowed ground, but really, when I think of the sweet release death will bring, it really doesn't matter. Still, they'll mourn poor Ophelia, good, sweet, Ophelia, who has been accused of much by her beloved prince of Denmark, but whose only sin was to lose her heart to him._

_I'll be able to sleep forever, cradled in the ground, to sleep and not think of anything. _

_The river..._

_The river._

_They say drowning can be painful, because you hold your breath for so long and finally, when you have to breathe, you open your mouth and let the water fill your lungs. Such a feeling that must be, wanting to breathe and yet not being able to, until finally, sweet death slips over you..._

_The river is cold as I let myself fall in, and my skirts weigh me down, but I'm happy, because it will all be over soon..._

_Good-bye._

* * *

Rumplestiltskin's magic had worked. It was Puck who pulled her from the river, who had breathed the breath back into the girl until she coughed and spluttered, expelling water from her lungs. Once the fit had passed, she lie down upon the ground, pale, weak, shivering.

"What...who are you?" she mustered, her dark blue eyes not leaving Puck.

Puck bowed his head. "My noble lady, I am Robin Goodfellow, at your service—but you may call me Puck."

"Puck." The words sounded strange coming from her, perhaps because of accent. "Puck...what has happened?"

"You almost drowned, my lady," Puck replied gently, taking her hand, "but we were able to pull you from the river just in time. I was able to restore your breath to you. We're going to take you home..."

"Home?" she exclaimed, sitting up. "To—to Elsinore Castle? To my brother...to the king?"

He smiled, shaking his head. "Not to Elsinore, my lady. That was your old life. But now you will live the life you were always meant to, as a noble of Faerie might."

"Of Faerie?" she echoed, her eyes widening. "Of _Faerie_?"

"Yes," Puck replied. "The life you might have led had you not been stolen away."

The girl's eyes filled with tears. She began to sob, turning away from him.

"What ails you, my lady?" Puck ventured gently.

"What do you think?" she demanded. "Now I see I have truly gone mad!"

And Puck, uncertain of what to do next, sat back on his heels as she wept.

* * *

There was an odd scent in the air. Prospero could detect it even as he slept.

Magic. And not human magic, not alchemy, not faerie magic, but the kind of magic that could only belong to one being.

The Dark One.

"You smell it? You smell it, too, master?" Aire, one of the many Fae creatures under his command, appeared at his side. Prospero narrowed his eyes at her, and then he nodded.

"Yes. Yes, I can smell the stink of the Dark One's magic," he replied. Aire clapped her little hands in delight, then sat upon the bedside table, folding her wings and leaning forward.

"He has opened a gateway in between the realms," Aire said excitedly. "He has succeeded at doing what only a magic bean or the Merlin and his acolytes could do. All at the behest of the Faerie Queen Caelia, with the blessing of High King Oberon and High Queen Titania..."

"In this he repays all his past debts to the Fae and gains carte blanche to do whatever magic he wishes in between the realms. Yes, I know this," Prospero snapped, rubbing at his temples. "But he must _not_ have that kind of power. He won't wield it wisely."

Aire smiled sardonically. "Then try to persuade the King and Queen of Faerie to your way of thinking. They washed their hands of the humans long ago." And with a chuckle, she rose into the air again, no doubt to find some quiet corner where she could take her rest.

But Prospero was restless that night. He shut himself in his study and once again pored over the pertinent texts. He wrote down the figures just as the texts and scrolls directed, but still, it was the same. And with this new rift in the borders between the realms, it would be quite easy for magic to drift from one world into another world—and worse, magic could be a dangerous thing in a world where no magic had existed for some time.

And with this thought in his mind, Prospero knew that he must take his findings to the young prince so that they could prepare for whatever might happen.


End file.
